Coherence

The term ‘mind-bending’ is thrown about far too liberally by critics these days, lazy shorthand for anything requiring even a modicum of thought. James Ward Byrkit’s very arch Coherence, however, really earns that tag: it ties your mind in so many knots you eventually give up trying to work out whether any of it makes a lick of sense. It’s part of the film’s genius, really.

Taking place on one night in a (sort of) single location as eight middle-class LA chums gather for a dinner party, a passing comet starts messing with time and reality. The theory of Schrödinger's cat is invoked as the idea of parallel universes becomes less and less theoretical. The pace is frantic and the Altmanesque overlapping dialogue disorientating enough without the sciencey stuff, but it’s never alienating to watch these ordinary folk squabble and bumble their way around giant questions of existence. This comes courtesy of convincing performances (Nicholas Brendon, once of Buffy, is particularly on the money in a knowing turn as Mike, an out of work actor who once had a role in TV show Roswell), lots of nifty rat-a-tat interplay and Byrkit’s tight control of his own script and cast.